


Blade

by lexi_con



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood, Choking, Consensual Violence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexi_con/pseuds/lexi_con
Summary: Dimitri's ruts are bad. Really Bad. Sylvain does his best to help both of them cope.For Dimivain anniversary weekend! Prompt: Dagger, hurt/comfort
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Blade

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Dimivain anniversary weekend hosted on twitter!!
> 
> https://twitter.com/SylvitriStash?s=09
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this little piece I managed to squeeze out between assignments and life struggles!
> 
> I would like to take an extra word to please heed the tags if abuse in relationships make you uncomfortable. There are also threats of mutilation. While Dimitri is not in his right mind in this fic it could be offensive to some.

Sylvain feels groggy when he wakes up. His body is heavy with exhaustion and whatever he was forcibly fed last night, making all his movement sluggish. There's a glimmer of light blinding him from a tiny gap in the curtains, telling him it's midday, otherwise the sun wouldn't reach the bed. 

He smacks his lips together, saliva and something else thick between them. There'd also a tang of bitterness that just feels so wrong, one he doesn't know if it's from his own blood or not. Maybe it is, he feels the stretch of several wounds on his body, concentrated on his shoulders, back and chest. It hurts to move, but it's more of a sting than agony. He drags himself across the rumpled sheets that had felt so nice yesterday but were now ruined by fluids and rips from too tight grips. There's a dull clinking sound as he scoots over and pain reminds him of the heavy chain around his ankle that must have chafed off skin by now. 

With the chain he can't move far, but he reaches for the canteen on the bedside table, throat parched. It's difficult to drink while on his stomach, so he scoots to sit at the edge of the bed, gulping down the liquid with greed. He empties the whole thing, stomach heavy and hurting once he is done, but his throat thanks him. It washed away the unpleasant tastes in his mouth too, a nice bonus.

He should get up and move around while he can, he has no idea how long he's going to be alone. He can only circle the bed by a few meters, but that's ok. What's important is that he can stretch and get his bones popping. He's still tired, so he debates just going to bed again, but he has to close the curtain or else he's just going to stare at the stark streak of light for another hour. He moves towards the window, feeling the chain around his ankle tightening. Of course.

It made sense the chain wouldn't allow him to reach the glass leading to the balcony, why else would he be wearing it? He does his best to reach for the heavy velvet fabric, only to come up just short. He felt the texture against his longest fingertip but he couldn't grab onto it or pinch it to make it move. He tried a couple times more, hoping he'd be able to elongate his arm just enough, but no such luck. Instead, there was the unlucky click of the lock turning in the door. 

Sylvain immediately pulled his hand back and backed towards the bed, but the chain's rattling made all attempts at trying to seem innocent ineffective. Still, he grabbed onto the post of the bed as the door opened and the large, hulking figure of the king entered. He looked ragged, angry. Perhaps his inspection of the "nesting grounds" hadn't gone so well.

"Welcome back, Dimitri," Sylvain purred, trying to appease the foul mood. Dimitri didn't respond, instead he turned around and locked the door again and grabbed the heavy bookshelf next to the doorway, dragging it with ease in front of the door. No one but him would so easily move the giant oak structure. He stopped for a moment, looking around, but most of the furniture had been removed from the room in preparation of this period. Instead, he turned to Sylvain. 

"What were you doing?" Dimitri's voice is dark, a low growl. It's been long since Sylvain heard such a poisonous tremor. 

"I wanted to close the curtain," Sylvain said. It was the truth, but he had a feeling Dimitri wouldn't like it anyway. 

True to expectation Dimitri glanced towards the window and probably didn't notice the small crack between the curtains, growling as he stormed forward. His arm reached for Sylvain who braced for impact, trying to keep the whimper of pain at bay when Dimitri roughly pushed him down onto the bed, uncaring of the bruises and bitemarks under his palm. His body quickly covered Sylvain, looming like a predator about to maul it's prey. Maybe that's what's going to happen too.

"Don't," Dimitri growls as his hand moves from Sylvain's shoulder to his neck, squeezing into the soft sides, " _ lie. _ "

Dimitri surely feels Sylvain's pulse, even through the gloves he's wearing. He wished it wasn't so fast, but even if it is  _ Dimitri _ above him, an angry, rutting Dimitri is still scary. 

"I didn't," Sylvain forces out, but he doesn't hold Dimitri's wrist, doesn't fight his control. If this is what he needs then so be it.

Dimitri's one blue eye stares critically, distrusting. He doesn't listen when he is like this, Sylvain knows that. 

"You can't leave Sylvain," Dimitri says. Dark, a threat. Hiding the fear Dimitri feels at the prospect. "I won't let you leave."

The way the fingers around Sylvain throat tightens is a telltale sign of the alternative Dimitri is offering. It's strange, he becomes so violent and downright abusive when his rut arrives, blinded by the scars of his past and how afraid he is of it happening again. Sylvain knows it is the fear and instincts that turn him into  _ this _ . He doesn't hold it against his love, not when he  _ knows _ .

So Sylvain lays still, submissive. He doesn't fight even as his own survival instincts tell him to get rid of the pressure on his neck, as the face of his alpha starts to sway and blur because of the lack of oxygen. Dimitri is saying something, but Sylvain can't hear—or at least not register it. 

Everything is going dark around the edges when the pressure finally lets up and he can breathe again. His body quakes with the effort to make up for lost air but he's still held down. Dimitri has climbed up over him, legs pining Sylvain's arms down as he sits on Sylvain's torso, one hand grabbing Sylvain's hair to keep him in place, the other reaching under the cloak he's wearing. The familiar sound of a blade being dragged out of its sheath makes Sylvain tremble. 

A dagger is in Dimitri's hand.  _ The _ dagger. The one Sylvain had gifted him at their wedding because he knew how Dimitri found the old custom so romantic. Sylvain didn't know Dimitri still had it on him, Dimitri had ordered all weapons be removed and hidden where he couldn't get to them. Perhaps the servants hadn't thought an oath dagger was a weapon someone would use to hurt their mate. And they would be right, at any other time.

Sylvain swallows visibly when the blade disappears from his view and he feels the cold blade come into contact with his neck. He can't tell if it's sharp enough to break skin, only that it is  _ cold _ .

"You cannot leave," Dimotri repeats, his mind overtaken by the lie it had told itself; that Sylvain had tried to disappear when Dimitri was patrolling the castle. It's not true, Dimitri probably knows that. But logic is at its weakest when faced with fear. 

The tip of the blade drags from Sylvain's neck, out over his shoulder until finally it settles on his arm, just below the joint connecting his arm to his body. "I'll cut off your arms so you can't open doors," Dimitri says and digs the tip in, and now Sylvain feels the trickle of blood gushing out from his skin. 

Dimitri switches sides, opening a matching wound on Sylvain's other arm. "Then I'll cut off your legs so you can't walk," he says, smiling even as something inside him realizes what he's saying is  _ wrong _ , "so you  _ can't leave me _ ." 

Dimitri's voice breaks, sadness as images of the only two options he sees before him floods his mind. Sylvain can tell that right now Dimitri can only imagine two outcomes: losing Sylvain to someone else—someone  _ better _ —or hurt Sylvain so irreparably he'd never be the same—or alive.

Dimitri's rut was a frightening thing, for both of them. But while Sylvain knew it would pass Dimitri couldn't imagine it, couldn't control the insecurity that's plagued him his entire life. None of this is his fault.

"Dimitri," Sylvain says gently, heart breaking when he sees Dimitri pull into himself even further at the kind tone. He's expecting to be berated, demeaned, like all those people treated him when he was just a child thrown into a genocide he didn't want to commit. Sylvain had vowed to never be like them. Dimitri dropps the dagger and hides behind his hands, fingers gripping his long, tousled hair in desperation.

Sylvain can't move so he just lays still, mustering himself to purr despite the weight of his mate on top of him making it a struggle. Dimitri whines in response, hands covering his face as he tries to shut the noise out, as if he doesn't deserve to be comforted, as if it scares him to feel safe. 

"My mate," Sylvain tries again and this time he hears how Dimitri pulls a deep breath into his lungs. Good, he might be calm enough to listen to a little bit of goading.

"It's not a good idea to cut off my arms and legs, you know that," Sylvain says as reassuringly as possible, "it would be so difficult to take care of our pups if I can't walk or hold them, right?"

Dimitri stilled. 

"P…pups?" he asked, his voice so small and vulnerable.

Sylvain held back a sigh of relief, they weren't out of the woods yet. Relaxing could be dangerous. "Yes, pups," he quickly reinforced, "I only want yours, Dimitri, no one else's." 

"Mine?" Dimitri peeks out from being his hands, hopeful as he looks at Sylvain, "you'll  _ only _ have  _ mine _ ?"

"Of course," Sylvain smiles up at his mate who is finally looking at him again, "I promised you, right? When we bonded. I'll be with you for the rest of my life."

A revelation seemed to occur to Dimitri then. He placed his hands on each side of Sylvain's head, but this time it wasn't domineering, instead Dimitri searches Sylvain's face. If it's for lies or truth Sylvain can't tell, he can just do his best to be honest. 

"You are mine?" Dimitri whispers to himself and lets one hand drag along the side of Sylvain's face and neck, settling at the crook where the most bite marks are concentrated around one of his scent glands, "you are mine."

The self assured way Dimitri repeats his question sends a thrill down Sylvain's spine. No matter how many times Dimitri says it, it always makes Sylvain happy.

"You are mine," Dimitri says again, this time bending down to kiss Sylvain, their chapped lips molding against each other just like always, perfectly. Sylvain melts under Dimitri, seizing control once again now that he can tell his love is calmer.

"I'm yours," Sylvain agrees when Dimitri pulls away, probably because his back is protesting at the awkward angle. 

Dimitri rumbled in content when he heard those words, his hormones probably swinging from despair to excited now that he's calmed down. Sylvain expected him to climb off now so Dimitri could get to working on those pups he obviously wanted, but he didn't move. Instead he grabbed Sylvain's jaw with both his hands, thumbs stroking across Sylvain's now damp lips.

"Mine," Dimitri trilled, "you'll never leave."

The decidedly more confident tone eases Sylvain further and he melts into the hands holding him. "I won't," Sylvain agrees, because he has no plans to do so, ever. Now he had the choice, and had made it, to remain at Dimitri's side, unlike way back when. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a smut scene too with Dimitri getting a titjob, but I'm so slow with smut I skipped it...
> 
> Still, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
